Rising of the Sun: Xion's Story
by AusisWinds-13
Summary: AU. From hatred and bitterness to understanding and love; this is the tale of how a spoiled Princess, consumed by jealousy over the beauty of her cousin, discovers herself and a chance for a whole new life. A collection of one-shots and a side story to "Rising of the Sun".
1. Ventus

**A/N:** Hey guys! So, as you may or may not already know, I've been working on a collection of _**Rising of the Sun universe **_one-shots centered on _**Princess**_ _**Xion**_ and I've finally decided to start posting them! Admittedly, I haven't completed many and some of them won't be particularly long, but I'm hoping this will give a bit more of an insight into the character we all know and love.

I had hoped to write and post them in chronological order, but my imagination often takes me all over the place… So, with that in mind and seeing as there won't be a set amount of one-shots, I've decided that I'll post them in the order that I write, but I shall state at the beginning of each chapter the age of characters involved to clear up any confusion!

Big thanks to _SummonerDagger88_ for such a _beautiful_ cover! You are amazing and I love you!

One last thing _—_if you haven't read _**Rising of the Sun**_ yet, I suggest you do as some of these might not make sense to you… If you have, then great! :D

Welcome to** _Rising of the Sun: Xion's Story_**! I hope you all enjoy this first installment. :3

**Summary:** From hatred and bitterness to understanding and love; this is the tale of how a spoiled Princess, consumed by jealousy over the beauty of her cousin, discovers herself and a chance for a whole new life. A collection of one-shots and a side story to "Rising of the Sun".

_AU — __One-sided Ventus/Xion, Riku/Xion, __Roxas/Naminé, _Terra/Aqua — Adventure/Drama/Romance

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**Chapter One :: Ventus**

_Xion aged twelve; Ventus aged thirteen; four years before the events of Rising of the Sun_

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A twelve year old Xion raked her gaze over her new servant with a disdainful expression. The boy was a scrawny little thing, with spindly arms, a mop of wild blonde hair and dull blue eyes staring at the floor by his feet. He looked weak, small and utterly incompetent. Her lower lip curled downwards.

How disappointing. When her father had promised to assign her a new servant, she had been expecting something...more and not this pathetic excuse of a human being. The thing didn't look fit to even stand, let alone cater for her ever growing needs.

"Is this some sort of joke?" She barked at the man who had brought this servant to her chambers, not even battering an eye when the scrawny thing cowering before her flinched at the sound of her raised voice. "I am to be given such a _useless_ being to perform duties as my servant? Am I being mocked?"

The man — one of her father's own personal servants, she was sure — bowed lowly, one fist pressed over his heart. "No, Your Grace. I was instructed to gift you with a new servant who can perform admirably in comparison to your previous ones." He remained bent at the waist, one hand gesturing to the shrunken form of her new 'servant'. "This boy possesses great worth, or so your father has assured me."

Xion sneered. "Worth? _Worth?_ What worth could this scrap of a boy possibly have to offer _me_?" She tossed her head arrogantly and turned away, letting out a scornful sigh. "I wish to be given somebody else."

"That I cannot do, Your Majesty." The man replied, regret and obvious fear heavy in his voice.

The Princess whirled back around, glaring darkly at him. "What did you say?"

He had the decency to appear frightened, respectfully keeping his face turned to the floor, still bowing to her. "I cannot complete your request. His Majesty has gifted you with this boy specifically and has demanded that you accept nothing less."

Xion fumed silently, her hands clenching furiously by her sides. "Very well." She spat, grinding her teeth out of annoyance. "I shall have to _endure_, it would seem. Although, inform my father that this is only a _temporary_ situation. This boy, no matter what he says, shall not remain my servant for very long at all. I refuse to allow it. This is a mockery."

"As you wish." The servant bowed even lower before straightening and tossing the boy, who had yet to move or make a sound, a long look. If the boy sensed his gaze, he did not make any attempt to return it. The man sighed and promptly left the room to escape the Princess' wrath, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

For a long time, Xion stood a few feet away from the boy, staring at him with an unimpressed glower. If it were at all possible, the boy seemed to shrink in on himself even further, his chin remaining tucked dutifully against his chest. This irked her, for some reason.

"Look at me, servant." She said sharply, clicking her fingers for emphasis.

He flinched, but complied, turning his head up and hesitantly meeting her gaze, his eyes wide and fearful like a startled deer. Or, at least, she had initially assumed it was fear. But beneath this fear, she could see grief, pain and anger. It was a deep-set, all-consuming anger which seemed to be burning him up from the inside.

She found herself vaguely impressed with the sight. It meant that he wasn't as breakable or as weak as she had originally thought. Perhaps her father had been right after all — maybe he did possess some worth. With a self-satisfied smile, she began to circle him, like a predator would its prey. As she suspected, he tensed up, like a coiled spring.

Xion smiled nastily as she came back around to his face. "I suppose you'll have to do. Scrawny, pitiful looking... In need of cleaning up, but you'll do." The boy's face didn't betray a single emotion, but his eyes — they were a different story. Anger stirred up within those azure eyes, as well as a hint of apprehension.

She latched onto the emotion like a leech to a wound, her smile turning almost gleeful.

"I am Princess Xion Tenebris, daughter to the _King_ of this Realm." She began grandly, gesturing delicately to herself. "More importantly, I am your master; therefore I have complete and utter control over you and your actions." She paused, allowing her words to sink in. "As such, I expect full obedience during your servitude to me, do I make myself clear?"

The boy stared at her, his gaze blank this time, as his lips worked around a suitable reply. Eventually, he settled for a scowl, neither accepting nor declining. Her lips twitched with annoyance, but she ignored it for now. She could punish him for his disrespect later.

"Now, you shall start by cleaning my room, servant—"

"Ventus."

Xion halted, her mouth open, her face a mask of surprise. Her expression quickly shifted to one of rage, her eyes darkening. "What did you just say?" She hissed dangerously.

The boy didn't react to her display of anger, nor indicate anything of any kind to suggest he had even noticed it. Instead, he spoke again in a raspy, rich voice. "My name is Ventus."

For a moment, she was hypnotised by the beautiful sound of his voice, her ears begging to hear it again, but all too soon her anger replaced her desire and she marched right up to him, glaring directly at him. "How _dare_ you interrupt me? I am a Princess! You are _beneath_ me!"

Ventus stared right back at her, his dull eyes sparking with an unrecognisable emotion. "You're a spoilt brat who has been told since the day you were born that you own the world. I don't care what you think."

She didn't know how to react, especially when he neatly withdrew from her and began going about his business as if nothing had been said, starting by straightening the sheets on her bed and plumping the feather-down pillows.

He had a name. And he had completely disregarded her status.

Only moments later, in a fit of anger, she threw a vase at him. Needless to say, the deafening noise which followed after it smashed against the wall inches away from his head had attracted the nearby guards and the boy was swiftly taken away to be punished for his 'actions'.

Being the bitter and prideful person that she was, she had him flogged five times for his rudeness and another five for breaking her vase.

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**A/N:** Okay, just to clear things up; this is the girl Xion was before she befriended Ven. She was short-tempered, rude, obnoxious and thought very highly of herself. This is the boy Ven was before he began opening up to people again after the death of his family and destruction of his town. He's going to be pretty angry at the world, almost vacant and acts a lot like the foul-tempered Roxas we all know from RotS! xD

Kind of a lot to take in, right? I really enjoyed writing it though! It was such fun to play around with these two and I look forward to doing so in the future! I've started writing the next one, and it'll be a bit of a leap backwards in the timeline, but I'll put ages at the top of the chapter as promised. :)

I hope that you all enjoyed this one-shot and I look forward to hearing any feedback!

Thank you for reading, take care and I'll see you all next time!

_~AusisWinds-13_


	2. Tears

**A/N:** This is kind of a dark one I guess? But it's for that very reason that it's so important. Xion's story is not going to be a pleasant one, nor is it going to be remotely happy. Her story is about struggle, hatred and bitterness. Something to remember when these one-shots get particularly bleak...

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**Chapter Two :: Tears**

_Xion aged nine, seven years before the events of Rising of the Sun_

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A nine year old Xion sat in front of her bedroom mirror, combing her long raven hair as her nervous-looking servant hovered uncomfortably in the background. He had tried to assist her by brushing it for her, but his constant fumbling had eventually annoyed her to the point that she pushed him away and ordered he leave her alone. She could handle such matters herself.

The young girl brushed her bangs back from her face, scowling at her reflection when they immediately fell into her eyes again. She let out a huff and threw the brush down onto the dresser, crossing her arms fitfully over her chest.

"You look a lot like your mother."

Startled, Xion's head shot up, her eyes meeting her father's in the mirror. He stood in the doorway behind her, one hand curled around the door frame as he watched her. She shrunk away from him, staring into his dispassionate golden eyes.

Xehanort was an older man, or at least, old enough that it seemed strange that he had such a young child. He had almost lost all of his hair and the goatee on his chin was beginning to grey, but there was a certain glint to his eyes that made most people do a double take. It was obvious to anyone who looked upon this man that he was not someone to be messed with, much less underestimated.

Never had she ever felt truly close to her father. This was mostly because her father never made it possible for her to feel close to him. She was, however, afraid of him. Sometimes, the way he would look at her or treat her made her think that he hated her. He would stare at her as though she were an abomination, a curse upon the very earth she stood upon and would often tell her that she should be grateful to have been survived past her first birthday.

Now, however, he was watching her with a strangely fond expression, the smallest of smiles spreading across his thin lips. Hesitantly, she smiled back. This was the first time in a long while that he was treating her with remote kindness and her uncertainty be damned if she was going to squander it. Cautiously, she asked, "I do...?"

Xehanort stepped into her room, nodding sagely, completely blanking her servant who cowered in fear in the background. "You do indeed, my child." He admitted in a gruff voice, folding his hands behind his back. "You have her eyes. And her smile."

Xion struggled to contain herself. Her father had all but forbidden any talk of her mother, ridding the castle of any portraits or items that once belonged to her, spare the library which she despised. How could anyone stand reading a book? It was positively boring. She didn't understand why he had chosen to keep it.

She had always possessed a deep and intense yearning to learn about her mother since she was very young. The only thing her father had explained to her was that her mother died giving birth to her. She knew not what she looked like, the colour of her eyes, the sound of her laugh or the smell of her favourite perfume. She did not know whether her mother was a kind and gentle soul, if she would have cared for her when she was sick, or if she would have rocked her to sleep, humming her favourite lullaby. She knew nothing and the only thing Xion wanted was to feel closer to her absent mother.

Her father came up behind her, a hand reaching out to touch her silky locks. "Your hair, however..." He tugged on it non-too gently, hard enough to make her wince, his voice low and gravelly. "Certainly an anomaly."

Xion felt her throat begin to close up; one of the symptoms of oncoming tears. She tried to swallow down her fear as her father continued to toy with her hair, his fond expression growing savage with each passing moment. This was the man she knew and feared. She wanted to pull away, to run off and hide, but he was standing right there, watching her with his searing gaze and she could do nothing but wait until it was over.

Xehanort sighed, sounding anything but content. "Black like raven feathers, like the night... What a dank, dark colour." His golden eyes narrowed, zeroing in on her face, trapping her gaze within his own. When he spoke, his voice was cold, calculated and deadly. "Your mother was blonde. She had beautiful hair; long and golden, like the sun had gotten trapped in it."

"I...don't understand." She whispered, frozen in place as she watched her father through his reflection. The implications were lost upon her nine year old self, but for some reason he seemed intent on forcing all of his anger onto her even though it was perfectly clear she had no understanding of what he was accusing her of.

The bald man laughed. It was a cruel sound, a sound that made her skin crawl. "Isn't it amusing? Even your _cousin_ is blonde! And yet..." He outright glared at her, grasping a handful of her well-kept hair. "You are not. Most curious."

It was then that she realised she had disappointed her father in some way. He was right. No matter how much she cared for it, no matter how much she doted over it, even when it shone and it was silky smooth; her hair would always be dank and dark.

"Pity, really..." Xehanort released her hair, letting it slip through his gnarled fingers. "You could have been so much like your mother. It would have been easier for us both, that way."

With that, he turned on his heel and left, his shoes click-clacking on the stone floor beneath him. Xion, meanwhile, stared at her reflection, her lips parted in shock, her eyes swimming with unshed tears.

Her servant made a poor attempt to console her, stumbling over his words, only for her to sharply dismiss him. She remained in front of her vanity unit, her face twisting. For a nine year old girl to hear that her own father despised her, to wish she was different...it was too much. Her emotions were pent up inside her, raging through her, forced and unchecked.

With shaking hands, she grabbed her discarded hairbrush — a dainty thing, decorated with flowers and leaves —and, with a scream, she hurled it at the mirror. The mirror cracked, shattered and fell out of its frame, the broken shards covering the floor. She stood abruptly, sending the high-backed chair she had been perched upon flying back. She barely even registered the pain as the shards littering the floor dug into her bare feet, tears slipping silently down her pale cheeks.

The guards came rushing through her bedroom door moments later, where they found the young Princess standing in a pool of her own blood, sobbing quietly into her hands.

It took three men to finally restrain her as her wails grew louder, echoing off the stone walls, her tiny hands lashing out at anyone who so much as touched her.

It wasn't until the soothing, yet shaky whispers of a servant she didn't immediately recognise met her ears that Xion finally stopped screaming, a gentle hand running through her hair as she sobbed into her pillow. At first, she had shied away from the sensation, only to relent when they persisted, finding a sense of comfort in the gesture. Aqua, she remembered her name was, continued to pet her hair and whisper softly to her until Xion fell asleep, her cheeks still wet with freshly shed tears.

The next day, before her servant came to check in on her, she cut off her hair. She refused to cry, even as she watched her hair fall to the ground.

It was then that she made a promise to herself, as she sat in front of her broken vanity mirror, scissors still in hand — she would never let herself cry again.

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**A/N:** Slight contrast from the Xion we saw last time, eh? This chapter almost serves as an explanation for her behaviour in the previous chapter. The poor girl, she's been beaten down by her own father for years...

Admittedly, this was an odd one to write, but it has a huge impact on quite a lot of things in this story and Rising of the Sun, even if it might not seem like it just yet! Some insinuations were made in this chapter, and not all that subtle either. It's kind of some foreshadowing for _Rising of the Sun_, so keep it in mind!

Thank you for reading, take care and I'll see you all next time!

_~AusisWinds-13_


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